bombay, how do i love thee...

Gateway of India, lit up in all its splendour.

Bombay may fail to appeal to one for a multitude of reasons. The traffic is loud, never-ending, and stops for no one. The beggars and eunuchs that haunt certain streets leave no vehicle unmarked with their grubby hand prints, whether it's a Bajaj scooter, an auto rickshaw or a Mercedes. It's almost always terribly humid—you could wring out your clothes at the end of the day and fill two buckets to the brim with your sweat. There are slums in perhaps every area, accompanied by filth and squalor. Too many of the residents are shallow and conscious about impressing an equally shallow society. I'm not sure I could ever live there.

Worst of all, in my opinion, the locals are completely contemptuous of the gods of English grammar and scorn the staunch and unyielding faith of the grammarians, repeatedly disrespecting and ridiculing it, trying to inveigle them into joining the Dark Side, as evidenced by this ad from Sony India (October 2012):

The copywriter wasn't too...bright.

Nevertheless, I love Bombay. It's the only city that I've been to (so far) where the branches of trees on either side of the road often meet in the middle, their leaves whispering and cajoling, paying no attention to the noisy traffic that drives by below them. There isn't much sunlight allowed into the side streets; the dense foliage of the many trees stand guard to prevent too much from creeping in.

Bandra.

somewhere in the suburban side of the city

And then of course, the family I adore lives there.

I made a quick trip to Bombay last week, the primary reason for which was to complete my dental work (three crowns on root canals, one cap on implant). To the dimwitted (who unfailingly inquire, "don't you have dentists in Kuwait?"), the cost of getting all that done with a good dentist in Bombay, plus the airfare, was about a third of what it would cost me here. Thankfully, it wasn't humid at all.

When I wasn't getting crowned, I spent my time with friends or family, usually at home or in a restaurant. My cousins have told me only too often of the 'awesome' food in this restaurant in Bandra or that one in Juhu. I love trying new things (not necessarily food), so I decided it was time to try a variety of food in as many unexplored places possible, with relatives or friends in the short time I had (nine days). The result was that I often had to have lunch twice with different people to ensure I spent adequate time with all I cared about.

It was worth it. Mouth-watering appetizers, dumplings and sushi (the range of veg sushi included mango sushi and olive sushi. That was a bit...strange) with my aunt at Global Fusion. Mocktails and a very forgettable dessert with close friends from MBA at TGI Friday's. Pizza with cousins at Alfredo's. Churros sprinkled with icing sugar and dipped in white and milk chocolate (YUM YUM YUM!) with a friend I met online at Chocolateria San Churro. Nachos and pizza with cousins at Bombay Blue two hours later. Ginormous crabs with half the family at Gondola where I appeared to have no knowledge of table manners. Chicken rolls, tarts and eclairs with another friend I met online at Candies. Portuguese Chicken with my aunt and cousin at Gaylord.

Damn that's quite a list. A couple of days I felt I would explode. It's weird; I lost weight despite the gluttony!

When it comes to interiors, a restaurant and a cafe completely floored me—Global Fusion and quite surprisingly, Starbucks.

Global Fusion has a lovely ambiance. The plentiful lunch buffet is served all around the restaurant, so you work up a bit of an appetite walking to inspect the buffet tables. It was busy; every table was occupied. A single table stood on a wooden platform above a pool of water. There were a couple of large toads (not real ones silly), with water jutting out their mouths, between tables in another, long pool of water. I didn't look around too much as the restaurant was closing and I wanted to eat more sushi, but it was very appealing.

A glimpse of Global Fusion.
Image source: http://mumbai.burrp.com

Shockingly enough, Starbucks in Fort takes the grand prize.

My cousin was immensely excited about Starbucks finally coming to India (in October 2012) and had made me promise we'd go there together, even though she'd been before. Having lived in Kuwait most of my life, where a Starbucks branch lies on every street corner, I wasn't particularly enthusiastic. I also despise beverages. My choice of drink is water (iced tea or nariyal pani* in India). If I'm in a cafe to catch up with a friend, I order hot chocolate. My aunt however, said it was a beautiful place so off we went.

Oh Lord. It was beautiful.

This branch of Starbucks was the epitome of the 'East meets West' concept, merging the American brand with European architecture and Indian culture, as my aunt put it. The Fort branch is in the Elphinstone Building, which is built in the Neo-Gothic style of architecture courtesy of the British. The quaint interiors of the coffee shop are reminiscent of places in North India, with wooden rafters, trunks for some of the tables, old-fashioned suitcases stacked in corners, carved wooden arches, high back armchairs, some antique furniture...very unlike the Westernized outlets in Kuwait and elsewhere around the world. The rustic look worked very well. I was smitten.

Don't miss the carved wooden
partition beneath the arch

                                                       

Another carved wooden arch

A closer look at the fine carving...can't seem
to get enough 

Note the milk containers and the print on the quaint
little suitcases!

Wooden rafters. I love them wooden rafters. 

A cozy corner :) I couldn't get closer for a better pic 

The drinks and cakes weren't a hit with me, but that's probably because I wasn't in the mood for hot chocolate, hate coffee and dislike cake.

It's always hard to leave Bombay. This time it was almost unbearable (in other words, I went emo). It's been a little more than a day since I got back but it seems like a distant memory now, as it usually does when I leave a country, even if it's Kuwait. I suspect I will post more to immortalize how I felt there so I don't forget. I forget too much too soon. I'm beginning to wonder if I'm developing Alzheimer's...

*nariyal pani: coconut water

(Bombay, March '13)

Day 1: Istanbul not Constantinople

Once upon a time, people would dress up for the airport, ie when they were travelling. That's changed. Why though? Here's a theory: Back then, you wanted to create a great impression on the people who would greet you at your destination. All four generations of your family would crane their necks trying to look into the airport from five in the morning in the summer heat eagerly waiting for you to coolly walk out with your trolley. But now your family has a life, choosing their beauty sleep over that first glimpse of you and you're lucky if you have a single relative waiting impatiently on the other side. More often than not, it's just a driver. And so, travellers have started dressing down and are wont to make mucky appearances.

But the transit passengers at Istanbul airport dashed this theory to smithereens. Great sense of style!

We (the mother, sister and I) didn't have Turkish visas, we were just gonna spend 3 hours in transit at Istanbul. BUT! We got off the plane - onto the ground to get on the bus that would take us to the airport building! We stepped on Turkish soil (or cement)! That totally counts!

That being said, Istanbul airport is gorgeous. I always opined that Dubai Duty Free was hyped and it is. I dislike it intensely. No one EVER talks about Istanbul airport. The decor is beautiful and has an old world feel to it. There's a bookstore on your right just as you step into Duty Free and so it was a hit with me the same second. There are plenty of shops that a 'commoner' must just pass by (as many did) - Armani, Bvlgari and the like but who hasn't seen those anyway? The REAL shop that's worth a browse is one called the Old Bazaar (how apt) and sold wines, bracelets, baubles, ceramics, gorgeous scarves (anyone who bought one wore it =D ) with the evil eye image painted on every object conceivable (except the scarves). Conscious of my bare neck, I squandered a LOT of time trying to pick one, my indecision driving the mother into a frenzy about missing our connecting flight to Prague. And when I finally made my selection the cashiers were dawdling, driving me into a frenzy. We almost missed the flight!

don't miss the eye under the board

Superstition? Call it what you will. The image of the blue eye is said to ward off the 'evil eye' of envious people who may not wish you well.

it's all over the place! @evil eye: BE GONE!

Heard the song in the title of this post? No? Give it a listen. If nothing it'll bring back childhood memories of watching Tiny Toon Adventures :P

Picture courtesy: the mother. I was too excited to take pictures.

a flashback, a social media success story and a craving for doughnuts.

I was never too fond of doughnuts. A little doughnut franchise in Bombay changed that.

Mad Over Donuts. (M.O.D.)

Their doughnuts (I can't bring myself to spell it as donuts) redefine delicious. They are unbelievably and irresistibly scrumptious. My cousins introduced me to M.O.D. during my stay in Bombay at my aunt's place. We'd go to the Juhu branch at midnight (funnily enough I've never been there earlier) with my Khalu (mom's sister's husband) and spend about twenty minutes debating on the flavours and delectable appearance of the batch displayed and finally select two each. In a couple of minutes there would be no trace left of them except for the melted chocolate smeared around our (my) mouths and this too would miraculously vanish as our tongues were stretched out to the limit to get every speck of frosting that had escaped, back into those salivary glands.

The bff and I, about to dig in.
My flavour? 'Color Me Bad' - sprinkles on melted hazelnut chocolate. Deeelish.

Then, heaving huge contented sighs, we'd select another dozen or so doughnuts for the rest of the family at home. The family at home receive their wares joyfully, and hurriedly call dibs on their favourite flavours and put the box in the fridge for the next day (as it is now past 2 am). Unfortunately they never get to sink their teeth into the ones of their choice (or at all) as by morning, there are just a couple of doughnuts left from the dozen, the rest having been devoured up in the dead of night. The perpetrators are blameless of course. It is not their fault. You cannot leave a boxful of the world's most heavenly goodies unguarded and expect it to remain untouched, lying in wait for you.

If I'm not wrong, this is the first and only Indian brand of doughnuts. And oh boy, their lil hole 'n ones are the best in the whole friggin' world.

What makes them the best?

1) Great service and fresh stock even at 1 am (which is when they close for the day).

2) Home delivery till midnight.

3) They have awesome promotions - buy 2 for Rs. 99 and get a cappuccino free, buy 9 get 3 free.. We'd never leave with less than a dozen.

4) THE VARIETY.
5) No one makes doughnuts like them. NO ONE. Not Dunkin', not Krispy Kreme.. Do you dig? NO ONE! Formidable competition to say the least.

Besides that?

The marketing is bloody brilliant.
Never having lived in Bombay, I can only comment on the internet marketing. Being a marketing graduate, I am in awe. The website kicks traditional out on the street. M.O.D. has positioned itself as fun and extremely lovable and that's the secret behind its mass appeal (the vision statement will tell you all you need to know). From cute graphics to an extensive and intelligent play on words (employees are called M.O.D. Partners-in-Crumbs), the offbeat site is pretty darn neat.

I haven't even started on their Facebook page. It has GOT to be my favourite company fanpage. Judging from the escalating fanbase, it's a significant contributor to building their brand equity.
What's so special about it? The entire page brims with creativity. It's fun. It's interactive. There are promotions and contests specifically targeted towards Facebook fans, pictures just for the page (this one being my personal favourite), endearing status messages that encourage fans to partake and express their ardent love for doughnuts while M.O.D reciprocates the love.

Their recent status message inspired me to blog about them.
"We like the 'likes' of you!"

That dear readers, is how a brand should use social media.

Now, I languish for a Color Me Bad.
M.O.D. needs to expand to the Gulf. Starting with Kuwait.


Picture courtesy: Logo 'borrowed' from M.O.D.'s Facebook page. I'm sure they won't mind :)

The mother strikes again

I was pulling the clean clothes out of the washing machine (my dad put them in to wash), when my sister noticed white flecks among them. I dusted the jeans and there was a flurry caught in the sunlight streaming through the window. Daddio had forgotten some Kleenex in his jeans pocket.
The mother, vexed,  said thus 'why can't he leave these things to women?'
To which I roared, 'sexism!'
'It's not sexism,' she expostulated. 'Men just can't do simple things.'

Oh snap.

touché

The mother while typing in her gmail in the username bar, continues with '@gmail..'

Me: You don't have to add the domain name when you're logging into gmail.

The mother starts hitting backspace.

Me: You don't have to remove it when you've already typed it out.

The mother is impassive.

Me: Noob.

The mother: Boob.

-_-

a look back - ghost of the year past

2010's been a blur. Honestly. For some months, I had to refer to previous posts. It's been a great year for shoes though! And books too, as I rediscovered my love for reading.

Let's recapitulate.. This is more for my benefit than to entertain you.

All through Jan-May: Last semester of MBA. In terms of studies, it was a fruitful sem, it made me glad I chose Marketing and I learnt a lot about it. Some relationships thrived, some suffered, but everything ended on a good note. The sole incident in April that held any excitement was that I fell down the stairs. It was thrilling. The pain was not and my phone lost a crucial key. I haven't replaced the key or the phone. Now it has a story behind it :D

June is a total blank.

July: A bloody AWESOME trip to Bombay.

August: Extractions and Gossip Girl. Period.

Come September and it was all about audieu, one mind blowing day out at a lake with my entire family and some of the best times I've had with my friends. Which inspired me to write this, so far the best post on this blog.

October: Interviews and a couple of amazing morning outs. And books.

November was a test of our hospitality as home was more like a guesthouse. My bff was down, then my cousin, then my mom's bff and after they left my grandmom (who I almost poisoned UNINTENTIONALLY, but let's leave that story for another time) and my cousins from Hyderabad for a couple of days in between. And another fab fab fabulousssso two trips to Bombay. Best month of the year - strengthening the bonds with family, friends and Damon Salvatore (YUMMY!) from The Vampire Diaries. I admit the relationship with the last is a bit one sided.

And December? I sliced the palm of my right hand. How, you ask? Indeed you should.

Well, I was walking. Maybe it was with a little skip. It was dark. The road was bad. And the rest of me decided to join my feet on the ground. My cousins helped me up and I felt a sharp stabbing pain in my right hand. I turned it and was surprised to see it trying to drown itself in my blood. I turned the palm down again lest they should see it and freak out. Which they did. What followed was people gathering and gazing at my hand in dazed horror, a rickshaw driver trying to stop the blood with 'spirit' (so he said which I suspect was his daru ki bottle), a two hour wait for a surgeon at Jehangir Hospital after the nurses patched me up and a lie down in the minor operation theatre getting stitches by the craziest doctor I'd ever met who made me promise my next holiday would be in Paris.

That's a promise I don't mind keeping.

And then there was my birthday. 23. Some great gifts. 'Nuff said.

Now I'm back in Kuwait. I've caught up with all the series worth watching (Outsourced is a good one), lost the mood for movies and have a whole bunch of books to read. The stitches and bandages are off but my skin still feels tight. I still love my own company and prefer to be left in solitude most of the time. My age is still mistaken to be around 15-18 years and I found in me a passion (of sorts) for photography after I was blessed with a hot purple compact camera (Canon SX210 IS - a cam so cool, so mod, it has sex in it! xD) which takes gorgeous pictures without giving me the need to tweak on photo editing software.

I have time to read again. My muse reaches out to me more often than it ever did before. And as long as I have that I don't need much more.

Except that holiday in Paris. ;)

when the bffs hit town

She's gone.

The last twelve sleep deprived days were full of fun, frolic, family, friends, green pastures, blue hills, really good home-cooked food, Innovas and Taveras, gorgeous weather, splendeferous views, irresistible shopping deals, mosquito repellent creams, bites and spurts of creativity inspired by the Vampire Diaries, hours long uncomfortable seating wedging between three people at the back of a car or a rickshaw and more chocolate than I care to see again in my life.

My mom's bff, the lovely Mauritian forever bestowing upon me the most fantastic of gifts, flew down a couple of days later, hence the subject.

There was a day trip to Panchgani and Mahableshwar which included a ride on a cart drawn by a horse called Sharukh over Tableland. The rickety cart took us over every rock embedded in the soil almost throwing us all off and the air was consistently full of yells of 'Bhaisaab, Sharukh ko control main rakho!' or 'Behave, Sharukh!' It was hilarious. Oh and the guide was very informative; he showed us every single location of every scene of every movie right from the 60s to the recently released Dabangg ever shot in the picturesque hill station.

There was a quick visit to a few of the points - Parsi Point (why it's is a point baffles me), Kate's point, Arthur's Seat and Harrison's Folly. The name of the last one always raised curiosity on my part. Who on earth was Harrison and what was his folly? Why was it such a huge deal that a whole 'point' was named in memory of it? Questions to guides have remained fruitless, unless Harrison was a Bollywood actor who got into a scuffle with a fellow star while shooting and pushed him off the cliff, no local guide in Panchgani would be interested in his fate. No one can enlighten me on the nature of Harrison's foolishness let alone who he was. That's where Google returned that apparently 'Harrison's Folly is named after a Mr. Harrison who built a house there that caved in under the winds.' Well if that's the truth (doesn't seem likely, I doubt the winds were ever that strong in Panchgani), it's obvious the folly is related to trusting the scum of a builder who must have cheated our unsuspecting Mr. Harrison on the quality of materials used in construction of his home. Poor schmuck.

A view of the surrounding hills from Arthur's Seat, engulfed in an azure haze.

On our way to some such point, we spotted the only wild animal on our short trip, a gaur (seladang sounds so much cooler) that we, and a few other cars that came to a halt at the sight of it, tried to take pictures of unobtrusively.

A horse with a name such as Don or Veer (surprisingly there was no Rajnikanth), gets on his way after a drink.

A day later was the trip to Panshet (40 km or so from Pune). The sun burned down but the place was exquisite. We went for a boat ride on the lake, 'woohoooing' on sharp curves, spraying each other with the miniature waves that rose as we disturbed the stillness of the water.

On the way to Panshet.

In between, we somehow fitted in a concert of French artists by name of The Arties, performing Beethoven, Weber and Schumann (Weber's Grand Duo being especially beautiful and memorable). dinner at Hard Rock and another the next night at 11 East Street Cafe and a hell lot of shoe shopping where, JOY! I found a pair of gladiators in MY size! *dances a jig across the room*

The bff's last day was spent quickly touring South Bombay, with the mother briefing us on the buildings and locations we drove past, pointing out the heritage buildings and asking us take note of the once glorious architecture. The weather was FAN-FRIGGIN-TASTIC. Never has the sun taken refuge behind the clouds for so long and the wind blown so freely in this city..

Worli Seaface, where the sea usually raging and uncontrollable at high tide, lies still, biding its time.

And after stuffing our faces with doughnuts from M.O.D. with the family that night, she left. At times, not much was said, but there was no need for it, in light of a strengthening bond, coupled with a strange, unspoken tenderness.

So far, it's been a pretty good week. Minus the two days in the middle where I was plagued by a cold.

Sunday was the khandaan party at Vie lounge (located right by Juhu Beach). Bloody awesome. After the dancing and before we were thrown out at at about 2 am or earlier, it got a little quiet and one could hear the waves softly hitting the shore.

Last night, the cousins planned to go for a movie (Golmaal 3) which I was not keen on (a Bollywood comedy? I think not) but went anyway. The cousin bought the tickets and we walked into an English movie. Turned out the tickets were bought for M. Night Shyamalan's Devil and I heaved a huge sigh of relief at the thought of having got out of suffering through an obnoxious movie making pathetic stabs at humour, almost 3 hours long. I settled down.

So it wasn't really scary. One of the genres the film is listed under on imdb.com is Mystery. FYI to whoever did that, the name of the film kinda obliterated any chance of suspense or mystery.

Devil is about five people who get stuck in an elevator which is equipped with a camera and speaker, so security can watch the passengers and communicate with them, but for some reason cannot hear what the trapped people are saying.

Every 20 minutes or so, the lights go out and the elevator starts shaking, there's a lot of noise of scuffling and struggling, and then the lights are back, welcomed with screams and gasps as the camera focuses on the body of a murdered victim.

Atleast there's consistency. Apparently it's a remake of a Japanese horror 'Helevator' (tee hee!). Maybe the original is better?

Dinner at Dynasty followed and then the most heavenly milk chocolate doughnut at M.O.D.

Wayy too much chocolate. So when we got home, I wanted to take the stairs, NOT because I was traumatized of elevators, but I felt.. oh so full (I blame that doughnut). So I walked upto the 10th floor(15 to my aunt's), but the 11th floor onwards was plunged in darkness. That's where my heart failed. I took the lift for the next five floors. And my heart nearly gave out on me again. Nearly!

Had a FABULOUS shrimp cocktail at TGIF.. the shrimps were nothing to write home about but the 'cocktail' whipped up was utterly delectable. So was the bbq chicken salad.. and the sizzling chicken fajita..

This blog is beginning to sound like the Times Food Guide o_O

The past four nights (minus the two in between) have been all about uncontrollable laughter and really, REALLY good food.

Guess what? No really guess guess?

My bff's flight should arrive within the next 10 minutes! I'm so friggin' excited I just can't hold it in. Her flight was delayed by over two hours which means nobody slept the entire night and they're all snoozing now when it's time to leave for the airport. She's gonna text/call me when she's in immigration and I can't find my damn cell. I think my cousin is sleeping on it. Well we'll know soon enough when it starts ringing.. I hope it's not anywhere near her auditory receptors; that's not a pretty song to be rudely awakened to.

Update: SHE'S HERE!!

And my cell was under the sofa where my cousin kicked it.

musings.

In the city I call home*:

- Nariyal pani is the best drink around for a parched throat.

- Every rickshaw wala is out to get maximum wallet share.

- It's more trying to get into mba than to get through it.

- It's possible to love a wi fi connection more than your cellphone.

- There can be no adequate substitute for family.

- A rick will still take an extra 10 bucks to drop you to your destination even if it is on his way to home, simply coz he won't get any fare thereon to his. Truly infallible logic that I've grown tired of arguing with.

- You don't need company when you're in a store full of books with nothing but time on your hands.

- The rick will be stumped to argue if you show your fare calculation on your cell's calculator.

- My best Ramadan ever was the one during the Career Forum days, opening fasts in Brio, Crossword, with a chocolate croissant and a Calvin and Hobbes book to go with it.

- My olfactory receptors craved and smelled more often than not the aroma emanated by the rain hitting dry earth.

- You can have a hell lotta fun without spending a dime. Or a rupee.

- The retail scene out here is a joke but I'm not laughing.

- There are people out there who would go wayy out of their way for you.

- Just 'coz some restaurants are highly recommended, doesn't mean they're going to go down well with you.

- And if 'coz they're not, doesn't mean they won't.

- Turns out not all of the male species is immature.

- You canNOT hold the same expectations you've been used to in the Gulf (if you've lived in the Gulf). You're just going to have an atrocious time if you do.

- I found friends to enjoy the little things in life with and had a blast each time.

- You don't need fans atleast 6 months a year.

- Even if all good things do come to an end, it's not necessarily a bad thing.

- I'm still incapable of approaching people on my own just for the sake of making conversation. But this is changing.

- I'm also incapable of ever being on time for anything, be it a lecture or a movie.

- The view from my window has a serene effect after a spot of rain, when the foliage thrives.

- If you don't build tolerance of blatant grammatical errors on signboards, hoardings, fliers, shop windows etc, it's highly probable you'll lose your mind.

- Cornflakes is the only way to start the day. And sometimes, end it.

- Bugs cannot be avoided. Mosquitoes can, with Odomos. And if you do get bitten, a bit of hand sanitizer helps.

- A girl's handbag MUST carry the following: hand sanitizer, wet wipes (lots of them, 'coz as soon as you refresh yourself with one everyone else wants to too), chewing gum, hair clips, change for the rick (if you travel by rick) right down to one rupee coins, safety pins..

- Moms are always right. Pity we insist on realizing the hard way.

- Indifference, if nurtured consistently, helps in overcoming every emotional tumble without you coming out too badly.

- It's often that people comment on your weight loss as a conversation starter.

- Japanese animated films kick Disney's ass.

- I'm not as heartless as I thought I was or tried to be.

- Every bakery and cafe is clueless as to the true succulent taste of cheesecake.

- McDonalds' has the best equipped loos. Now Gold Adlabs (I refuse to call it 'Big Cinemas') does too.

- The cultural environment is one that I've never been exposed to before, making it an invaluable learning experience.

- Lived here four years now and I still sight a vegetable I've never seen before.

- There are only a handful of friends you never want to lose touch with and many more with which you can't wait to lose touch. In this case, Facebook is more often a bane than not.

- Too many people can't tell the difference between 'lose' and 'loose'.

- Time is of the essence so don't waste it preaching the difference between right and wrong to people who don't care to learn and are old enough to know better anyway.

- I've been told my train of thought somewhat resembles that of a guy's. Interesting statement.

- I have resigned myself to the fact that never will I find a pretty yet well fitting top in any Indian department store.

- Shopping from export surplus shops has a unique thrill. Especially when you pick up one of your favourite brands at less than quarter of the price.

- Some of the absolute best times I've had here are when friends or family have come down to stay.

- Every other season pales in comparison to the monsoon.

- My therapy to clear a boggled mind? An episode of Naruto Shippuuden. Provided it's not a filler. Even a Tom and Jerry (Fred Quimby ones).

- Fruit tastes better here for some odd, inexplicable reason.

- I never got to enjoy huddling in sweaters because of the inexplicably hot afternoons in the so-called winter months.

- Everytime I get home, I wash off atleast three layers of grime from my face.

- I never loved walking anywhere as much as here and it's an activity I never get tired of.

- No chocolate tastes better than Dairy Milk just rightly melted.

- No pizza tastes better than the Hawaiian Volcano at Papa John's.. now discontinued.

- No mocktail tastes better than the Sweet Sunrise at Hard Rock Cafe.. now discontinued.

- My hunger for classical music was fed by attending the concerts held by the Poona Music Society.

- The recent most fabulous memories I have of here are of Sundays, living the moment.

*Inspired by a particular bff's facebook notes :)

last sunday.

Weekend getaway: Kalote Lake, Khopoli, Maharashtra

Joyfully reuniting with the family after eons - aunts, uncles, cousins, kayaking - setting out for unchartered lands only to be driven away by the frenzied barks of dumb animals as soon as our paddles touched the soil, the boat capsizing as another 120 kg of manflesh tried to get onto it, floaters depreciating beyond repair, getting thrashed by a merciless waterfall and emerging with backs bruised and battered, trekking with great care on moss covered rocks with bare feet crabs and tropical looking bugs and spiders accompanying us to the source of the waterfall only to be forced back by relentless agonized paternal yells, making the descent sitting on rocks having nightmarish visions of tights ripping at every 'sat', posing in the water, trying to catch roosters and chicks on the hike back, chasing guinea fowl at the resort with my adorable nephew whose energy levels would put to shame those of anyone who downed 20 cans of bull, kayaking again this time with more company only to have to wait in the boat barefoot (yet again) as neil armstrong set out to mark the land in his Vans, huddling together for a final picture, covered from head to toe with cuts, bruises and a (now) lovely tan that ends before it even reaches the clavicles, and at the end of it, none the worst for wear.

And as I lay in bed, I felt the strange sensation that I was still rocking in a kayak.

All in all, a good day.

Oh yes, a good day indeed. ^_^

A forgotten boat - Kalote Lake, Maharashtra

The waterfall!

The trek up on the rocks hidden behind the verdure.

A huge shoutout to everyone who was there.. YOU made it happen! :*